


Black or White, There is Only Grey

by Office



Series: Black, White, and Grey. [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Graphic Violence, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5383361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Office/pseuds/Office
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley is fed up with being everyone’s stepping stool, so he devises a plan to re-claim his place in the pecking order. Many are caught in the fallout, but this Crowley reborn has left his compassion at the door. One thing is for sure he will not be someone’s pawn this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, thanks for stopping by to read my story, I've decided to turn this into a series because the ending has escaped me. So there will be another part......>.> so hang tight.

            Castiel stirred as the muffled sound of footsteps echoed through the walls. He grunted and blinked hard as he tried to move his hands. He slowly tugged them towards his body, but he was met with the cold resistance of sigil carved shackles around his wrist. Jarring himself awake he tried to quickly place himself in his surroundings. His memory was foggy and clouded by a thick haze of scattered memories. A door opened, breaking the silence in the room with the sound of heavy metal scrapping across the stone floor. Castiel shifted and tried to move his head up to see who it was, but his vessel was weaken by the sigil marks on his chains. He exhaled and tried to concentrate on moving his body, but it was bound tightly to the hard metal surface on his ankles, thighs, and waist, with one last binding crisscrossing tightly on his back. He jerked against the tight bonds but that only caused more discomfort so he retired to think.

 

            “You’re awake?” A familiar voice broke the silence.

 

            Castiel could not see him, but he immediately knew who it was. “Crowley.”

 

            It was almost like a curse when it fell from Castiel’s lips. The King of Hell laughed as he walked into the angel’s view. Blue eyes meeting brown as things began to become clearer to Castiel. He was summoned by Crowley earlier that day on his hunt for Amara. Crowley said he had some information to pass onto him that was in both their mutual interest, as Amara was a threat to every living and dead create on the planet. Castiel grimaced and cursed under his breath, he was always the one to fall into traps. He stared Crowley down, unsure why the demon had captured him.

 

            “I suppose you’re wondering why I have you trapped here.” Crowley waved his hands to someone outside Castiel’s view.

 

            Crowley smirked and walked outside of Castiel’s view, which made Castiel very nervous. He was gaining some of his strength back but not enough to even lift or turn his head, but his senses were coming back to him. He ruffled his nose at the smell of mold and decay as it filled his nostrils. It was a mixture of decomposed earth and moisture that led Castiel to believe he was being held somewhere underground. The cold damp air across his back and feet revealed that he was laying on a table with no shirt on, but he had pants, but not shoes. Waves of air brushed against his skin as people walked silently around the room. He could only focus on the barren stone wall in front of him and was unnerving him at every passing minute that he did not fully understand where he was. He jumped when he felt a pair of cold hands brush across his back. A small shiver ran down his spine.

 

            “Hmmmmm, yes this will do.” Crowley hovered over Castiel, digging his nails under the tightly strapped bands of leather on his back.

 

            “Crowley.” Castiel hissed in frustration. “Why am I here?” Castiel demanded.

 

            Crowley removed his fingers, slowly admiring the little beads of blood gathered on the tips of his fingers. “You were never the patient one.” Crowley sat next to Castiel, half perched on the table outside of Castiel’s view, but close enough that Castiel could felt him beside him. “I’ve brought you here because I need your help.”

 

            Castiel glared, but did not speak.

 

            “See love, I need those beautiful angel wings of yours.” Crowley ran his hand over Castiel’s shoulder blade.

 

            Castiel growled and jerked away from his touch but that only caused his binding to cut deeper into his skin. His breath picked up as he tried to control himself. “What are you talking about?”

 

            Crowley twisted his face into a wickedly disturbing grin as he bend over Castiel, leaning only inches above Castiel’s ear. “I’m going to carve your wings from your body and use them to kill Amara.”

 

            Castiel shot a glare to Crowley, catching over a glimmer of the wickedness behind his brown eyes. There was not an ounce of hesitation, whatever Crowley was planning to do, he was going to do, and it terrified Castiel down to his core.

            

            Crowley left Castiel to soak in his juices for an hour. He was enjoying having the upper hand for once and decided he was going to watch the angel squirm. He sat in his office as he watched his henchmen arrange the remaining items he needed for his plan via camera. After tonight, no one would talk down to him, no one would use him as their pawn. After tonight he would not slink in the shadows and wait around for scraps. The king gathered himself and popped the dust off of his favorite blazer. He had one last item to collect to complete his plan and this one he would be collecting himself.

           

            Castiel fought the best he could against his restraints. He didn’t care how much it hurt when the shackles cut into his wrist and ankles. He needed to escape, before Crowley could do whatever he was planning to do.

 

            “Leaving so soon?” A familiar voice echoed across the room. “Or should I say, trying to leave so soon?” Crowley joked.

 

            “Crowley, if you do not release me.”

 

            “What Castiel? We all know you’re balls deep in high water with not a raft to float on. Who’s going to save you? Who even knows you’re here?” Crowley walked into view.

 

            Castiel turned best he could to avert his eyes. He knew Crowley was right, he was told to meet him in secret. No one knew he was here, no one even knew he was missing. So all Castiel could do has lay there and glare and try to put on a brave show. He would not let Crowley see him defeated.

 

            “Now, now that that angelic spirit of yours has been broken, I will do you the honor of telling you my plan.”

 

            Castiel focused only on Crowley this time, as the king rolled his eyes.

 

            “What? No witty comeback about how cliché it is for a villain to reveal his plan?” Crowley acted disappointed.

 

            “Crowley.” Castiel bunched up his face as he growled his name out in the most venomous way possible.

 

            “Alright, alright, no need to bust an artery. I’ve summoned you here tonight because you are just one part of many that I need to complete my plan.” Crowley paused for a response, but there was none. He had Castiel’s full attention. “Good. You see I’ve grown tired of the Winchester way. The I’m going to sacrifice it all no matter what, who, whatever the cost way. Surely you know by now, that once the Winchester ‘fix’ something, some new badder evil will take its place. It’s like a vicious cycle.” Crowley leaned against a metal tray as he plucked a very sharp scalpel off the silver surface. “And you know I’m not one to throw all my chips into one bag.” He paused and Castiel could see the waves and annoyance move across his face. “That’s a bad investment.” He perked up. “And you know I’m a man strictly of business. Now I could wait for your little Winchesters to clean up their mess, but there’s no telling what will happen to me. Amara is getting stronger day by day and she may very well best the boys.” Crowley placed the scalpel down on the tray. “Who’s to say, why take the risk. That’s why I have devised a plan that will save all our hinds. Using the power from the demon tablet, I’m going to give myself the power of an arch angel and become the true King of Hell.”

 

            Castiel’s eyes dilated as he searched his mind. How could Crowley have the demon tablet? He was sure Metatron had it. “H-How?” Castiel cried out.

 

            Crowley smiled. “I just had a little talk with the scribe and he was happy to help me out with my little plan, well I shouldn’t say happy. Forced is the better word, but who’s complaining.”

 

            “I know Metatron, he would never help you.” Castiel hissed.

 

            Crowley nodded and stood, pretending to look conflicted. “Hmmm, I’d agree, if he were still an angel, but he’s human now or was.” Crowley chuckled lightly to himself. “Or maybe he should tell you himself.”

 

            Castiel looked around best he could, then turned to Crowley. He knew Metatron hated demons more than anything, it was unlikely that he would help Crowley. After all he himself had been fooled many times by him before.

 

            Crowley reached behind him and pulled out a large jar. In it was the preserved head of Metatron. Castiel gasped in shock, he was rendered speechless. Crowley held the jar to his ear. “What’s that Metty? You want me to continue? You sure? Okay, if you insist.” Crowley sympathetically placed the jar beside him. “You see, my boys ran across your friend here and you wouldn’t believe, he was just on his way to hide the demon tablet. Well of course we are always happy to help an old friend. So we, for the lack of a better word, offered to help him. Now I know, he’s not the most honest angel in the sea, but since he’s now human, there’s nothing a little magic can’t do to help.”

 

            “What did you do?” Castiel growled.

 

            “I called my mother of course. Or hunted her down, let’s forget about all the small details, but I offered her a deal. If she provided me with a spell that prevents humans from lying and I’d let her live. See I’m a compassionate man.” Crowley smiled. “So ever time that double timing blood sucker lies I get to peel away an inch of his skin and long story short, I got what I needed from him.” Crowley flashed the translations before Castiel’s eyes. “Now with in the demon tablet there is a spell to give me the powers of an arch angel, of course it’s overly complicated, but I have free hands to spare. I just need six ingredients; one virgin human male, one virgin human female, one plant of the rare sea. That one was hard to get. One new moon born calf, the blood of a year old baby and ah yes, one pair of angel wings.”

 

            Castiel faced turned from anger to fear. He pulled tightly against his restraints in protest.

 

            “Now don’t be like that, with this new power I going to kill Amara before she reaches her true potential and save the world. And you’ll be glad to know that I won’t be raging some fruitless war to take over of the world. Why rule the world when you can profit off the endless amount of souls found on it.” Crowley rolled his eyes back as his dreams inched closer and closer in his mind.

 

            “They’ll never let you get away with it.” Castiel growled.

 

            Crowley turned and glared at the angel. “They will have no idea what I’ve done.” Crowley stood and turned his back to Castiel. “Now, let’s seen how should we remove those wings? I know the pesky little things are there. Luckily the demon tablet also tells how to reveal them.” Crowley nodded to someone behind Castiel. Two demons pried open Castiel’s mouth and forced a thick viscous liquid down his throat. The taste was overwhelming and made Castiel sick to his stomach. His vision blurred for a second as he could fell the air change around the room. He moved his back and from it he could fell his wings spread into the air. Castiel growled and fought against the demons, smacking his wings into their bodies, sending them flying into the walls.

 

            “Settle down!” Crowley reached for his cattle prong and sent an unhuman amount of electricity through Castiel’s body.

 

            Castiel cried out and whimpered as his body convulsed. When Crowley pulled away, Castiel had nor the strength or will to move. He could barely talk as foam bubbled from his mouth. He only blinked to keep from passing out.

 

            “Now, that’s better.” Crowley grinned. He picked up two instruments and placed them in front of Castiel’s view. “You have a choice, swift and painless or long and excruciating?” Crowley placed a hand to his ear as Castiel frothed at the mouth. “Long and excruciating? Alright, your choice not mind.” Crowley shrugged as he grinned and picked up a jagged rusty blade and dug it into Castiel’s back.

 

* * *

 

            Dean picked up his phone and considered calling Castiel. He was coming up empty on the hunt for Amara and he could use someone to vent to. He and Sam sent Castiel away for some fresh air only days before and they haven’t heard from him since, which was not uncommon. So there was no cause for concern. Dean unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts, stopping at Cas’ name. He went to click on it but stopped and relocked his phone. He didn’t need to bother Castiel with his whining. Instead he was going to do what any other normal man would do when their mind was troubled. Drown his woes in beer. He got up and walked to the kitchen to grab a cold one. He finished it quick and decided Netflix and beer was a better way to spend his night. Sam was in stretched out in the den on the couch reading, through it looked like he was doing more dosing than reading. Dean paused and chuckled. He walked behind his brother quietly and touched a cold beer to his brother’s cheek, startling Sam awake.

 

            “Beer?” Dean smirked.

 

            Sam only glared at him and declined.

 

            Dean shrugged before grabbing the HDMI cable for the new TV they had bought from the second hand shop. “Hungry?”

 

            Sam yarned and nodded as he stretched on the couch. “Chinese or American?”

 

            “You’re call, I’m picking the movie this time!” Dean shouted as he watched Sam walk into the kitchen. Dean didn’t want to spend his evening watching another depression movie, he was already in a pissy mood.

 

            “I’m ordering Chinese!” Sam shouted from the kitchen.

 

            “Yeah.” Dean waved into the air as he hooked up their computer to their new TV. He was starting to get in a better mood. He was kind of bummed Castiel couldn’t be here to chill with them, but Dean had plenty of time to show Castiel their new TV when he got back. “Got it!” Dean did a little happy dance.

 

            “Wow Dean.” Sam teased his brother as he leaned against the doorframe between sips of water.

 

* * *

 

            Castiel laid spread across the table in a pool of his own blood. Hurt, but still alive he let his breath move out of control as his mind tried to recede into depths of unconsciousness. Sadly, Crowley had been especially sadistic and did not let Castiel miss a moment of his torture. His ears rang from his screams and his voice was horse and faded. He only had enough energy to breath. Crowley’s men who stood guard in the dungeon had not witnessed this level of brutality from their king, but he certainly earned their respect. Crowley looked at his blood covered hands, the amount of blood not phasing him at all. He picked up Cas’ dress shirt from the floor and whipped his hands, before tossing it to the side.

 

            “Boys.” Crowley nodded to the car sized dark brown wigs neatly placed on the floor.

 

            The demons jerked to attention and were quick to gather up the wings gently from the floor. Both did not want to piss of their king, they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger if they lingered. They left and prepared the wings for the ritual. Crowley walked the room, gathering his tools and taking them to the sink. He washed them and neatly put them away. He dried his hands and turned to Castiel. He felt nothing absolutely nothing as he stared at the withering mess before him. He sighed at all the trouble it would be to clean it up, but he already did his part, his goons could take care of the rest of it. He walked over to a drawer and pulled out his angel blade and looked at his reflection.

 

            “Hmmmm, not bad. Not too messy.” He brushed a father off his blazer. “I must thank you, for all your help Castiel.” Crowley twirled the point of the blade on the tip of his finger. “But your services are no longer needed.” He sat next to Castiel on the table and placed the point of the blade right over his heart. “I’m going to save you the trouble and end you now, because we all know how long your lifespan will be in the company of those Winchesters.” Crowley whispered into the angel’s ear. Castiel hadn’t the energy to protest as he felt the scorch of the blade being sled through his back and through his heart. His death was quick; Crowley shielded his eyes as Castiel’s grace faded into the air. He stood, half amusement. “Hmp.” He muttered to himself as he stood and flicked the lights off in the dungeon, leaving Castiel’s lifeless vessel impaled on the table.

 

            Crowley didn’t waste a moment of his time. He headed straight to his quarters and prepared himself for the ceremony. His blood rushed with the desire to rule and be feared and respected by all. He was tired of being second or third best, he got to where he was by being patient and calculated, always careful to think of a plan so that he would wide up on top. He out lived the Devil and his strongest minions, The Queen of Hell, and every other disaster that shook the planet, but only by the mercy of others and mercy he showed to others was he still here. He wanted to be the game changer not the brick, he wanted to have the power to raise an army if he needed to and defend himself from all threats, be that Winchester or whoever else. He tightened his slate colored tight and popped his blazer. He was ready to re-claim his throne.

 

            Deep within the pits of hells hundreds of demons gathered to watch the rebirth of their king. Many had lost faith in him and their numbers were dangerous low. Most were doubtful this new transformation would provide them with a strong leader, but word was spreading fast that he cut off the wings of an angel himself and new faith was building around him. All gathered below the candle lit alter as the items were laid out piece by piece. The demons chatted amongst themselves in anticipation, standing on their tippy toes to try and get a better look at the table. All drew quiet when Crowley entered the room. No one dared to speak out or even move in the presence of their king. Crowley grinned with confidence, the effect he had on everyone already was pleasing to his sight. His two right hand men, Jake and Max gathered beside him, ready at any moment to carry out Crowley’s will. Crowley looked down at the crowd with supremacy.

 

            “Tonight! I cast off the shell of a weaker man and reclaim my place as rightful leader of hell. Follow me and your path with be riddled with reward, disobey me and suffer my wrath. I will promise as I’ve always have to look after my own and user in a new world of opportunity for all!” He clenched his fist. The crowd nodded and cheered, they were charged with energy from their king. They had not seen him this confident in a very long time and they were desperate for reassurance. “Let it be known that Crowley the king of hell is dead! And Lord Crowley the King of Hell has been born in his place!” Crowley motioned for Jake and Max to start the ritual. They covered Crowley with the fresh blood of the virgin man and woman and fed him the blood of the first year infant. They smeared his face with the leaves of the sea plant and flesh of the new moon born cow, all doing this as they chanted. Crowley closed his eyes as he felt his stomach start to churn. He felt a wave of dizziness, but he stood his ground. Lastly he was sprinkled with the ashes of the freshly cut angel wings.

 

_Miscere est renovent miscere sed ad conterendum erit coniuncta est nasci denuo_ _!_

 

Both demons said in unison and from Crowley’s body erupted a fountain of blood. It spewed from his mouth thirty feet into the air, leaving only a colorless empty shell. Jake and Max jumped back, as the crowd watched closely. Crowley did not move for many minutes, before a faint light started to build up in his chest. His head snapped back as he released an unearthly yell. His body sprung back to life, the color in his cheeks returned as a world wind of energy surged around him, so powerful it evaporated all who darned not to take cover. Behind the tornado of power and energy was heard a thunderous growl. All the demons cowered and covered their heads. The dust and electricity disappeared, revealing a brand new Crowley, clad in a brand new all black suit, with fiery amber eyes and golden blonde hair. The king reborn moved his eyes over the crowd, he could feel every single demon in the hall. He fed off the sweet aroma of their energy. It was like he was seeing hell again for the first time. He turned immediately to his right. He glanced down at Jake, who was cowering at his feet. Crowley turned to his left and found Max in a similar position. He grinned.               

 

“Yes, this will do.”       

 

             Crowley stretched out his arms and summoned an unknown power within him. In the air he lifted Jake and Max and closed his eyes. The henchmen hovered in the air for only a second before the air around them thickened and they transformed into hellish monsters of the night. Their bodies twisted and contorted into the shape of a human/hellhound hybrid, with long razor sharp claws and teeth. When the transformation was complete they were mere shadows of their old selves. Crowley released them and the two fell to the ground, landing on their feet. The creatures stood up and growled furiously through the hall.

 

                “Now, That’s better!” Crowley turned to his followers. “I am nothing if not a man of my word.” Crowley drew from the walls many tortured souls and transformed them into demons. He created over a hundred in less than ten minutes. He restored the strength of all of his followers, filling everyone with a new sense of purpose. “I will make hell great again!” Crowley howled into the air. “Follow me and you will survive!” The crowd exploded with cheers, for the first time in a long time hell was getting back to full strength. “But first.” Crowley placed one finger to his lips, silencing ever demon in the room. “We have a little whiny bitch to deal with.”


	2. Chapter 2

It had been over a week since Dean heard from Castiel. He wasn’t worried at first and played it cool whenever Sam asked, but inside a pit was growing in his stomach. It wasn’t completely unnatural for Castiel to disappear for weeks on end, but Dean still expected his angel friend to come running when he called; and as painful as it was to admit Dean had been calling a lot. He tried hard to focus on the search, but his mind wouldn’t let him, spinning restlessly day and night worrying about Cas. Dean made sure Castiel was at one hundred percent before he sent him out to search on his own, but Dean was worried that all that fighting against Rowena’s spell had left him open to other vulnerabilities. It didn’t help that him and his brother were turning up empty at every turn. He was relieved that Amara wasn’t with Crowley anymore, but her being in the wind made things seem a lot worse. Sam could even sense his brother’s uneasiness. Dean was even less patient than he usually was. Sam thought it was a good idea to pick up a case and get some fresh air. He found one while searching for Amara. It was a long drive, which could do them both some good.

“Hey, we got a case.” Same slapped a newspaper in front of his brother.

“Case? What?” Dean snapped out of his day dream. He squinted at an article circled in red at the bottom of the page. “Three girls go missing? Where’s the case?” Dean had that doubtful look in his eyes.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Keep reading.”

Dean sighed and muttered something under his breath and continued the read. “Three girls go missing, blah blah blah, found with all their blood drained from their bodies. Hmm.” Dean took a quick sip from his coffee. “Could be something.” And tossed the paper to the side.

“Could be?” Sam said genuinely shocked at his brother’s reaction. “Ah, that reeks vamps all over.”

Dean turned his back to his brother. “There are other hunters out there.”

“Other hunters?” Sam was getting frustrated. “Dean, we’re no closer to finding Amara than we were when we started. We need some fresh air.” Dean shook his head and joked under his breath between sips. “Dean, we need to clear our heads, we’re not making any head way staying in the bunker. The case is in Maryland, it’d be a good drive and an easy case.”

Dean hated to agree but he could fill the veins on his head throbbing from cabin fever. Sam was right, they haven’t worked a case in a while and lord knows Dean could use the air. Dean reached in his pocket and checked his phone in secret. No new texts or calls. Dean sighed and accepted Sam’s offer.

“Good, I’ll get packing.” Sam smiled as he left. He glanced back at Dean, who seemed focused on his phone, staring wistfully at the screen. Sam furrowed his brow, he wondered how much each of them could take before they both completely broke down. It was a lonely and extremely tough job saving the world from themselves all the time.

The drive from Kansas to Maryland wasn’t as bad as Dean thought. It took about two days and they even got to stop at their favorite dive bar in Indiana. Dean needed the fresh air, he forgot how relaxing it was to bury himself in a case to fend off stress. Usually it was Dean who suggested working cases to pass the time, but he was grateful Sam brought it up. They were only about four hours from the town where the girls were found and much to their relief there had been no other reported disappearances. Dean glanced over at his sleeping brother, it was late morning, but a beautiful day. Dean loved those cool summer mornings, he enjoyed the breeze on his face and neck as he drove his Baby down the road. It was a nice distraction. He stopped at service station for a quick fill up and got out the car and stretched. The weather was perfect. He smiled and checked his phone. He wasn’t as unnerved as he was back at the bunker, but he sent Castiel a quick text anyways so he would know where to pop in if he needed to. Sam was half asleep, so Dean took his time. He went into the convenient store, thinking his time to pick out the snacks he wanted. He smiled at the clerk girl as he picked up somethings for Sam. When he checked out he flirted with her, his ego getting a boost from being able to make a girl blush despite his skills being a little rusty. He thanked her and heading back to the car. He was finally starting to feel like his old self again.

They found a relatively nice motel five minutes outside of town. The prices were low to encourage people to stay during their mid-summer travels, which Sam and Dean greatly appreciated. They suited up, posing as FBI agents, and headed straight for the police station. The town was beautiful, mid-size, but still small enough where people knew each other. They entered the station and flashed their badges. The clerk at the desk glanced over them casually and sent them back to the chief’s office. Even though this case was open book Sam still had a weird feeling about it. He wondered if these killings had anything to do with Amara. Monster cases were down since The Darkness was released. He wondered if they were regrouping to deal with the darkness, like the Nachzehrer. Sam nudged Dean and nodded in the direction of a small group of detectives talking over a case board.

One of the officers’s looked up. “Agents.” He waved and shook the boy’s hands. “I’m Lieutenant Tom Giddleston, I’m heading this case while Captain Casey May is on maternal leave.”

Dean reached out and shook the man’s hand. He could tell this was his first big case despite his title. He nodded and introduced himself and his brother. “I’m Agent David Shore and this is my partner Dmitri Adams.”

Lieutenant Giddleston sighed in relief. “Thanks for coming, we’ve really hit a wall.”

Introductions were quick as the Lieutenant caught Sam and Dean up with everything they’ve found. Each of the girls were found in the same area, he pointed to a wooded area not too far outside of town. The suspects made no attempt to hide the bodies and there were no signs of sexual assault, the only thing that through off the officers was the missing blood. With age ranges from eighteen to nineteen, the officers suspected the girls might have gotten involved with a cult. Sam ordered copies of all their findings and reassured them that they would look into it. Dean commented that it was their specialty to deal with freak cases like this, which put the Lieutenant immediately at ease. They left, leaving their card at the desk and told them to call if something popped up. They wanted to do a little field work alone to try and get a closer look at the dump sites.

“Classic vamps.” Sam shook his head as he looked at the crime scene photos. He figured it was a bunch of newborns, because older packs were a lot more discreet. They needed to find their nest and end this quick before more people got hurt.

They parked on the side of the road, the area had been taped off to prevent others from tampering with it. Dean got out and looked around. It was the perfect location to build a nest, the woods were thick and the location was secluded. He pulled out his phone and checked his messages and tucked it back into his pocket. Sam waved to him and showed him a pile of freshly opened cans of beer that were off to the side of a recently walked path. They knew the vamps couldn’t be far. So they decided to check it out, they went back to the impala to get their knives. If they were lucky the vamps would be resting and they could take care of it right then and there. Going into the woods, even during day time was risky and though they had the upper hand in experience, dealing with freshly turned vampires gave them unspeakable strength and speed. Sam and Dean followed close behind each other, following the path of broken twigs and low lying branches. Sam stopped; he could hear the faint sound of people talking in the distance. He turned to Dean, who also heard them. Dean and Sam separated to get a closer look; they didn’t want to blow their cover. Having the advantage of surprise was crucial in vampire hunting. Dean carefully walked through a patch of bushes, careful not to make too much noise. He crouched down when he saw bodies moving. There were at least three women, very young and topless, drinking beer and caring on. From where he was hiding he could hear them and judging on how much they bragged about the killings he could tell they were freshly turned. Dean spotted Sam from across the clearing and both of the brothers counted down silently in their heads before charging. Bringing down the vampires was easier than they thought. The girls put up a good fight, but were easily slain due to their own arrogance and inexperience. It was easy to find the nest, the vampires were very sloppy, leaving trash everywhere.

Sam didn’t flinch as he dragged the bodies to a pit to burn them. Dean looked to see if there was any evidence of any other vampires. There had to be a leader of some kind that was turning people and he doubted it was just the girls alone. He paused when he found a pair of men’s boxers. Dean showed his brother.

“You think he’s the one who turned the girls?” Sam wiped his hands clean.

“Probably.” Dean flicked the underwear off a stick onto the ground.

“You think it’s the head vamp?”

“Not likely, probably just same newly turned kid.” Dean was grunted, as he wiped the dirt from his jacket.

“Dean, if he comes back and finds the rest of his family killed, he’s going to run.” Sam was right, but it looked like it wouldn’t take them long to find the head vampire. Dean showed Sam a flyer for a party that was taking place across town.

The boys cleaned the nest best they could to hide the fact that the other girls had been slain. They were betting that the head vamp would be at the party so they could end this. The brothers were fortunate for the vampire’s juvenile behavior, because they now had a picture of the head vamp, which they found on one of the girls phones. Their biggest worry was finding the vampire who turned the first kid. If he was still around, he could be turning more people as they speak. Back at the station Sam and Dean reported to the Lieutenant, that they suspected it to be a cult and that they needed to return to their main office to finish the case. They reassured Lieutenant Giddleston that they would take care of it, much to his relief, who would be happier if this whole thing would just go away. The party where the lead vamp was supposed to be wasn’t until night fall so Dean and Sam prepared, they weren’t sure how many other turned vampires were going to be there so they needed to plan for the worst.

Sam cleaned his knife as he relaxed in the motel. “Hey, have you heard from Cas?” Sam said out of nowhere.

“Nope.” Dean turned and finished cleaning his gun, he put on an act, but he couldn’t fool himself. He hadn’t heard from Cas in a while and he wasn’t sure why it was bothering him so much. He didn’t understand why all of a sudden he had this anxiety. It wasn’t like it was abnormal for Cas to be gone for weeks on end, but there was something in the pit of his stomach that said there was something wrong. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Sam nodded with a concerned look on his face, trusting Dean’s resolve. Besides they had more pressing matters to deal with. They were gearing up to leave the motel a little after ten. Dean waited for Sam outside the motel. He flipped through his phone for unseen text messages or voice mails. He clicked on Cas’ name under his contacts and waited patiently in the cool summer air for him to pick up. After about five rings the call went to voice mail.

“Hey buddy, it’s Dean. Just checking in. Give us a call, alright.” Dean hit the end button. He felt like a child calling Cas so many times, he’d only been gone for two weeks. Hardly anything to worry about, or at least that’s what he told himself. He sighed and put his phone back in his pocket, he needed to stop worrying. Sam walked out a minute later and Dean hoped in the front seat and unlocked the door. Dean cleared his mind of his anxious thoughts, because he needed to be on his game, they had a job to do.

The party was at an old factory turned club. It was big and crowded but not flashy and stuck-up like the ones in the city. If it wasn’t for the music, Dean might actually have liked the place. They boys searched the crowd, bumping and pushing through a sea of drunken kids. Sam spotted the vamp across the room, it looked like he was hitting on a girl that clearly wasn’t interested. He forced himself on her and after being clearly rejected pulled her into a hallway. Sam glared and turned to Dean who had seen what happened too. In an office, turned makeshift lounge, the vamp was kissing and forcing himself on the girl. Sam growled and snatched the vamp of the girl and tossed him to the floor. The girl thanked him before running out of the room. Dean let her pass before closing the door.

“Well well well, look what we got here.” Dean circled the vamp, just itching to slice him into pieces. “Some rejected punk kid who doesn’t have decent enough game to get laid.” Dean stared him down with the fury of thirty-two years of uncontrollable rage.

The vamp backed into a corner, but he wasn’t finished yet. He grinned, then laughed, catching the boys off guard. “You know who I am?” The vamp flashed his fangs. “The shit people dream about at night, I eat blood bags like you for breakfast.”

Sam was quick to knock that grin off his face. He lunged forward and grabbed the vamp by his shirt and slammed him into the wall. Sam wasn’t in the mood to chat with some punk kid, he wanted answers. “Save it.” Sam hissed as he pressed his blade to the kid’s neck drawing blood. “Who turned you?” The kid wiggled in his grip, his mind too cluttered with fear to respond. The look in Sam’s eyes said that he was way in over his head but the vamp still tried to hold his ground.

“What. What you going to do, I-I got a pack here, a-and they’ll rip you to shreds.”

Dean wasn’t impressed with the kid’s weak threat and stepped closer to Sam. “That’s what you do? Let your little girlfriends do all the work?” Dean slammed the kid’s head against the wall and threw him to the ground. He jumped on the kid and started beating on him with his bare hands.

“Dean! Dean! We need him alive!” Sam pulled on Dean’s arm. Dean cursed, grabbing tightly to the boy’s shirt. “I’m not going to ask you again, who turned you?” Sam said, holding his blade right above the kid’s head.

“Some vamp! Some guy talking about needing to build an army.” The vampire squirmed.

“Where is he!” Dean shouted.

“I don’t know man, he skipped town after he turned me, I swear!”

Dean looked at Sam and boys silently agreed that the kid had no more useful information to tell, before slaying him on the floor. Dean made quick work of discarding the body, he didn’t need people coming in and asking questions. Sam waited for him back at the car. He was right this did have something to do with the darkness. It seemed like monsters all around the world were making armies and what’s worse they seemed to be very careless about it.

“Dean.” Sam stood up, pulling himself off the side of the car. Though the case was easy, Sam was tired as hell and eager to get back to the motel for some shut eye.

“Hey.” Dean pulled his keys from his pocket just as his phone buzzed. He pulled both from his pocket and checked his messages. “Hey it’s a text from Cas.” Dean said enthusiastically.

“What’s it say?” Sam walked closer.

“Let’s see.” He unlocked his phone, feeling relieved to finally hear from his friend. “It’s an address, looks like he’s got something. He wants us to meet him at a motel in Virginia.”

“Did he say why?” Sam questioned, if it were that important Cas usually popped in.

“Room 209. He said it was urgent.” Dean looked at his brother. Sam nodded and got in the car, followed by Dean. Whatever was going on he didn’t want to waste any time. Cas needed him.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean drove all night, while Sam slept quietly next to him. He was beyond relieved when he heard from his friend. He had to tone down his excitement in front of Sam, because he was embarrassed from the childish feelings he was having. He felt all his worrying was for nothing and was eager to see what Castiel had found. The address turned out to be a sleazy old motel in the western part of Virginia. Dean wondered why Cas would get a room here. Sam woke as soon as they pulled into the parking lot. The place looked abandoned and they would have assumed so if it hadn’t been for the faded vacancy sign in the office window. The brothers stepped out of the car and immediately felt that something was off. It was eerily quiet, not a soul in sight. No manager or cleaning staff, not a single customer. Dean counted the cars in the parking lot, there were five. Some old some new, but the place was a ghost town. Sam asked about the room number and Dean pointed and headed to room 209. The complex had a pretty basic lay out, nothing fancy. Castiel’s room was in the furthest back of the two buildings in the back facing away from the road. Dean started to feel more and more anxious as they approached. Sam continued to look for people or even an open room implying staff was inside, there were none, it wasn’t a good sign. They reached the room, Dean knocked on the door, but there wasn’t an answer. He looked back at Sam, who matched his look of concern, not sure rather to wait or dive right in. Sam shrugged and Dean reached for the door and opened it.

Dean peaked in and was horrified when he saw the room, it was a total mess. The TV was on and bed was unmade, the whole place looked disheveled. The lamp was knocked over, the phone was on the floor, the end table tipped to its side. There was no doubt something big went down here. Sam searched the room for clues, while Dean checked the closet and bathroom. Before Dean could reach the bathroom he saw a sole of a shoe. He walked towards it and turned the corner. It was Castiel. He was dead, lying lifelessly in a blood of his own blood. Dean fell to his knees in denial, checking for a pulse, calling out his name. When Sam heard his panic he came rushing over. He was deeply shocked by the scene he saw before him. He watched as Dean kept checking and calling out Castiel’s name. He looked at Sam with this fleeting look of sorrow in his eyes. Dropping his head as the slow realization that his longtime friend was gone and there was nothing he could have done to save him. Dean hollered and punched the carpet, until his knuckles turned blue. Fighting hard to swallow his tears, but the pit in his stomach was bubbling and threating to explode. Sam ran his fingers threw his hair, walking away from the grizzly scene. He tore through the room for answers, anything. He found on the bed Castiel’s angel blade, covered in blood. Enraged he flung the blade from the bed, revealing something dark red. He squinted and picked up a small dress, one that looked strikingly similar to the one Amara wore. He looked around the room again, this time with a new prospective. What if this wasn’t Castiel’s room? What if this was Amara’s? Sam looked at the dresser and found a hair brush, he found a broken necklace and the then a pair of little black dress shoes. Sam snatched up the items and showed them to Dean, before something else caught his eye.

Dean gave up fighting and let his pain pour out of him. His tears soaked his checks, as his nose ran uncontrollably. His face bunched up, making the ugliness expression you’d ever seen, but he didn’t care. He reached down slowly and lifted Castiel’s body from the floor, holding him close to his chest in tight embrace. He tears fell onto Cas’ trench coat, leaving wet stains around the neck. He wept into his friend’s collar, whispering apologies that would never be heard. He swore he would find the person responsible for this and make them pay with every fiber in their body. “I’m sorry Castiel.” Was the last thing he whispered as he wiped the strands of hair from Castiel’s face. The peaceful look on his face was all the comfort he got, knowing his friend was no longer suffering.

Sam turned the corner. “Dean. I think I know who did this.” Dean turned and looked at his brother with a wrathful look. “And I think I know where she’s heading.” Sam opened a flyer of the Historic Williamsburg, VA.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hell has no fury like a hunter’s scorn. Despite Sam’s protest of making a plan or waiting till their head’s cooled off, Dean rushed into the situation like he always did. Sam couldn’t blame him, he was just as pissed. He thought of Castiel like a brother, but he couldn’t help but think it was a trap. Dean however was ready to put it all on the line. He let her off easy the first couple of times because he was mesmerized by her, but there was no feeling of wonder, not an ounce of mercy left in his body. She had taken someone very important from him and from the pit of his soul there was no compassion that could save her now. Sam didn’t interfere even after Dean wrapped Castiel up and placed him in the trunk of the car. Dean didn’t want to bury his friend so far away, he wanted him close. He clinched the leather of the steering wheel as he tore down the highway. Amara was going to pay, even if it costed him his life.

They arrived in Williamsburg, it was partly cloudy and late in the evening. They booked a room at the first motel they could find. Sam had finally convinced Dean to come up with a game plan. Dean didn’t like the idea, but he had no other choice, Sam was right. If they were going to do this, they needed to be smart. Dean left the room in a fit and Sam let him, his brother needed his space and so did Sam. The sun was setting as Dean took a walk down the sidewalk. He stared at no one as he walked without purpose down the pavement. People’s smiles and cheerful laughter annoyed him, it taunted the dejected feelings he had inside of him. He stopped when he reached the edge and watched the golden sun set. Its dull radiated shine reminded him of the faded glow on Castiel’s face. The expression of a man who has many times lost but spirit was never broken. He sniffled and spit and turned back. He cleared his mind and focused on the game plan, pouring all his energy into this one last stand.

Sam and Dean knew very little about how to kill Amara, but they know how to kill a lot of other creatures. They were counting on the idea that Amara wouldn’t be at full strength and hoping to catch her off guard and waste her before she got too strong. Sam checked their inventory on holy oil, while dean loaded and cleaned the guns. They worked quickly through the night so they wouldn’t miss her before she skipped town. Finishing up, they headed into town at first light. They searched high and low, a search that seemed fruitless, but gave Dean something to focus on other than his grief. It was summer and the town was packed with people, it was nearly impossible to find her, knowing that they had no idea what she looked like or if she transformed at all, but they had to try. The sun was setting and the day was coming to a close and Dean was hot with frustration. They were making no progress. The crowds were thinning and Dean couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He turned and cursed under his breath, irritated at the fact that they had wasted an entire day running around chasing a ghost. He wasn’t even sure if she was still in town. Just as he was about to give up, he saw a face in the crowd that sent chills down his spine. Their eyes met and time slowed down as she flowed by with a wicked grin on her face. She blinked and disappeared into the crowd and that’s when Dean knew. He waved to Sam, who did not see her, but saw where Dean was pointing, the museum. Dean weaved through crowd to reach the museum, with Sam not far behind. It was still open, but not many guest inside. He searched every face until he saw her passing unhindered through the crowd. Her smiles taunted him and mocked his pain and anguish. Dean charged after her, chasing her through the endless exhibits, when finally he stopped when he saw her enter a part of the museum that was under construction. Sam was not far behind and then and there they formulated a plan. Without talking Dean went in first, it was dim and the artifacts were covered with white tarp. The walls were bare, with only shadows to decorate them. Dean moved causally about twisting and moving around the objects. “Boo!” He jerked around, Amara caught him off guard. She lifted her hand and flung him into a statue.

“Wow, how dumb are you.” Amara laughed. As she walked towards him she did not see Sam behind her. Before she could make a move he doused her with holy oil, lit a match and set her on fire. Her body erupted in flames as she screamed bloody Mary. Her flesh quickly burned and melted off at a speed much faster than a normal fire. Her beautiful brown hair turned black as the flames shifted wildly from orange to yellow. Dean and Sam covered their eyes as she floundered about. She stumbled and rolled, and collapsed to the ground, as the flames finished when her life force faded out and for a moment Sam and Dean thought they had won. From her corpse a devious laugh emerged. Her dark sickly cackle rattled Sam and Dean to the bone. Her body lifted, disfigured and burnt as she laughed hysterically into the darkness. Sam and Dean were horrified as they watched her slowly heal. She conjured the power from the souls she had eaten and healed her broken skin and smoldered flesh. The process took a matter of minutes and the teen Amara was reborn, fully nude and thriving before them. “Ah Ah Ah.” She waved her finger and in one flick snapped Dean’s arm in half. He hollered and buckled to the ground, while Sam watched hopelessly, frozen in fear. She turned to Sam eager to return the favor, when suddenly the ground started to shake.

The ground rattled and shook, knocking objects to the floor. The lights flickered as the ground split in two, bursting with flames and fire. Everyone in the room shielded their eyes. From the smoke and ashes rose a figure. “Holy boys.” Dean and Sam immediately knew who it was. “Sorry for the flashy intro, but what can a say, go big or go home. Amara.” Crowley greeted, stepping from the flames. His power level was off the chart, it was nothing like the dwindling flame when she met him the first time. She backed up, knowing she did not have enough power to take him. Crowley could sense this and grinned. “I believe we have a bit of unfinished business to attend to.”

“Crowley-

It was the last word she muttered as he lunged forward and drove his hand through her chest, taking with it her beating heart. He savored how it still pulsed as he ripped it back out of her chest again. She watched all blurry eyed unable to speak. “This will do.” Crowley stared amusingly at the dying organ, right before crushing it with his bare hands. His blood rushed as he blasted her body into a million bits with one shot from his hands, decorating the walls with his very own special kind of art. “Perfect, no better place for a relic than a museum.” Crowley turned to the boys. Sam was crouched over his brother, who was holding onto his arm to minimize the pain. “Oh stop it’s just a scratch. Boys!” Crowley snapped his fingers as Jake and Max appeared beside him, growling and hissing and hungry for their next meal. Sam and Dean prepared for the worst, as Crowley walked towards them. He pasted them and stopped at the foot of the gapping hole. “There’s a new king in town and he’s not going to take any of your shit any longer! Now, I’ve down you two twits and the rest of this moron infested planet a favor.” He pointed to the bits of Amara all over the walls. “Be grateful.”

“H-how!?” Sam’s voice cracked as he spoke out.

“How you say?” Crowley laughed, pretending to be more excited than he was. “None of your fucking business, that’s how.” He temper matched the flames erupted from the pit. “However I will tell you this.” He face turned serious. “I am the new king of hell, back, better, and new and improved, and I won’t have you two nitwits running around destroying the world in your little suicide missions of love. In this world there cannot be peace without balance, light without dark, day without night. Too much of either can tip the world into turmoil and I for one am tired of cleaning up your little messes. So I’m going to say this once. I have no plans of going on some fruitless crusades to rule this rock, I have no attention for fighting the idiots with wings. I have one job and one job only, to make my deals and collect my souls. You cross me and you die. Oh and thank you for weakening Amara for me, not like she would have been much of a challenge, but I appreciate your participation in my little plan.”

“Plan?” Sam looked very confused.

“Yes. You honestly think that you happened stumbled upon her location on your own? Please. Don’t take credit where credit is not due.” Crowley petted Jake and Max.” Yes, such good boys. It took them all but three days to track down that smelly brat.” Sam and Dean were both at a loss for words. “Oh and one last thing, here.” Crowley threw out a little black phone. “I don’t need it anymore.” Dean and Sam looked down at the phone and Dean immediately recognized what it was or rather who it belonged to.

“He played his part too.” Crowley made a father appear from thin air and flicked it from his hand, sending it floating towards Dean. “His sacrifice will not be forgotten.” With that Crowley walked into the fire as the hole sealed itself up leaving only disrupted rubble and dirt.

Dean pulled away from Sam and reached out to grab the feather. He held it tight, feeling like he’d completely failed his friend. He didn’t fight the tears that were coming, but they couldn’t stay there as Sam pulled him away.


End file.
